


Real Flowers

by Kalira



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Florist Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Sheith Secret Santa 2017, Slice of Life, Tattoo Artist Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-03 18:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13346982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: Keith needs to borrow his boyfriend's expertise on flowers.





	Real Flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [space-das (tumblr)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=space-das+%28tumblr%29).



> This is a pinch hit for [Sheith Secret Santa](https://sheithsecretsanta.tumblr.com/), written for [space-das](http://space-das.tumblr.com/)!

“Oh no. . . It’s the dangerous punk from the wrong side of the street - hide the peonies!”

Shiro paused, finished writing out the message on the card he was working on with a spiralling flourish, then looked up in time to see Keith shoot a boggling look at Lance. He smothered a laugh.

Although. . .

“Peonies?” Shiro repeated dubiously, glancing over at Lance, wondering why Keith would be a threat specifically to them. Any of the flowers in general, really, but . . . why peonies? Lance grinned brightly and kicked his feet, not quite banging his heels into the counter, before going back to whatever he was doing on his phone without supplying an answer. Shiro rolled his eyes, lips twitching.

“Why have I not punched him yet?” Keith asked, reaching up and tucking a lock of hair that had fallen free of his ponytail behind one ear. The tail end of it caught on the small silver hoop through his earlobe, but he didn’t notice.

“Because you actually like him.” Shiro said quietly, amused, tucking the card into place in the now-finished arrangement and moving around the counter to the open floor.

Keith took the last couple of steps towards Shiro with a smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I don’t recall ever saying that. . .” he denied with an innocent look, raising his eyebrows.

Shiro caught him around the waist and hummed absently, bending to kiss him properly, light and sweet. Keith’s lips curved against his own, and he stretched up, sliding his hands up Shiro’s arms to rest just below his shoulders.

“Mm. . .” Shiro bumped their noses together gently, not really pulling away. “It’s lovely to see you, but what brings you here today?” he asked softly.

Keith grinned, fingers tightening on Shiro’s biceps for a moment. “Got a bit of time before my next appointment,” he cocked his head in the general direction of his shop, “someone panicked and begged out when I picked up the needle, and I thought since the slacker’s actually _here_ today, you might be able to spare enough time to come out and have lunch with me?” he asked hopefully.

Shiro hesitated, because Lance _could_ watch the shop, but he always preferred to be here himself. “I have _school_!” Lance yelled, and Shiro hid a smile. “I am _not_ a slacker! Jerk!”

“Whatever.” Keith dismissed, not looking at Lance. “Got an hour for me, handsome?” he asked, dropping one hand to Shiro’s waist and tugging lightly at one of his belt loops.

“At least.” Shiro said, stealing another kiss. Keith hardly tried to evade it, smiling as he pulled away. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.” Shiro called to Lance, as though he hadn’t heard. “If Mrs Johnson calls again remind her that the orchids are _still_ on order and they won’t be in before Friday.”

“Sure thing boss.” Lance waved lazily, then waggled his fingers. “You crazy kids have fun, and don’t let the punk talk you into anything involving sharp implements.”

Shiro rolled his eyes and Keith flipped Lance off.

“Need to do anything before we go?” Keith asked, cocking his head.

Shiro shook his head. “Nope, ready.” He twined his fingers through Keith’s, and grinned when it made him blush faintly. He stroked the pad of his thumb over his lover’s slightly battered fingers as he tugged Keith towards the door, and got a fond squeeze in return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey honey? What do you think?” Keith asked, folding one leg into the seat of the couch and settling there beside Shiro, leaning against his shoulder. Keith offered up his sketchbook, and Shiro tugged his hand over to peer at the open page without taking the book from him. There was a single sketch on it, mostly pencil and clearly unfinished, but with colours already filling in a few places, and suggested by light streaks in others.

“Hm.” Shiro cocked his head and adjusted his reading glasses. He shifted a little and Keith made a low sound in his throat as he straightened, pushed away by the movement. Shiro curled his arm around his lover’s back, and Keith leaned closer again. “What was the request?” Shiro asked curiously, tracing a fingertip over the in-progress design.

It was a bouquet of what looked like a kind of bee balm, dahlias, orange lilies like trumpets, backed and filled in by a scattering of chrysanthemums and both held together and bounded in with the faint edges of what might turn into a coiling ribbon when Keith finished sketching. It was an unusual arrangement, both for Keith and compared to the flower tattoos Shiro had seen before.

“He’s a chemist, and he asked for an arrangement of flowers that looks like a burst of fireworks.” Keith supplied, flipping his pencil dextrously around his fingers and back as he spoke. “He said he didn’t care what flowers or for any of the details, but they all needed to be real varieties.” Keith snorted disdainfully and Shiro hid a smile - it was reasonable to be sure, he thought, but Keith would do nothing less than a _real_ design, unless specifically asked to do otherwise. “His wife loves flowers apparently.” Keith shrugged. “He wanted something that meshed the two themes.”

“Oh?” Shiro grinned, sliding his fingers up and down Keith’s upper arm, trying to catch his eyes.

“Mm.” Keith shifted a little and gave Shiro a sideways look, smiling slightly. “I told him my partner is a florist and he started floundering for something to say. I take it he does not have any particular fondness for flowers himself, and didn’t want to offend me.”

Shiro huffed, frowning slightly, and Keith laughed, reaching up to caress his jaw and tug him closer, encouraging him to tilt his head down for a kiss. “Don’t pout. Not everyone can love plants as much as you do.” Keith murmured, and Shiro hummed. “You don’t pout at Pidge.” he added with a soft laugh.

“Not pouting.” Shiro countered, though he didn’t pull away. There was also no point in pouting at Pidge, even if he had been prone to it - even if she _had_ given up her habit of hanging out with Shiro to work after classes shortly after he and Keith had started dating, abandoning him in favour of setting up a little tech nest in Keith’s shop.

Keith kissed the bridge of his nose, lips brushing over the scar there, and pulled away with a fond smile. “Yes you are. Tell me what you think of the design instead.” he suggested.

Shiro hummed, turning his attention back to the sketchbook, clasping Keith’s hand and tipping it closer. His fingers slid up Keith’s arm as he thought, and he rubbed his thumb over the red and white sword that made a stark arrow towards the heel of Keith’s left hand.

“It looks good.” Shiro said honestly, but tapped one of the dahlias. “These should be a little more round overall, and the points of each petal should be defined with the shifts in the colour, and the white streaks, not the flower’s outline.” Keith made a thoughtful noise, nodding understanding. “And the petals here,” he traced the lines of one spiky bloom of bee balm, “they should have more of a divot. Just along here.” He indicated with his thumbnail.

“Thanks, handsome.” Keith kissed his shoulder through his shirt. “I appreciate it.” Keith reached across the sketchbook to bring it back to himself, the darker curve of the black and purple sword inked above his right wrist showing briefly as he extended his arm.

“You’re welcome!” Shiro said fondly. “Oh, and I don’t know if it was on purpose,” he added, with a crooked smile, “but one of your lilies only has five petals.” He tapped it with one fingertip.

Keith stilled, then groaned. “No, I didn’t do that on purpose.” he muttered, with a low growling sound.

Shiro laughed, squeezing his lover close under his arm for a moment. Keith consented to be squished against his side, shoulders bowing in Shiro’s grip. He loosened his hold after a moment, settling his book back across his lap and allowing Keith the freedom of movement he needed to sketch. He slid his forearm back up to rest across Keith’s shoulder instead, keeping him close without taking up too much of his space.

Shiro listened to the quiet scratch and dull scrubbing sound of Keith’s pencil and eraser as he read, fingers ruffling Keith’s hair at the base of his neck. He made a soft, thick sound somewhere between a moan and a lazy purr and slid down a little against Shiro’s side under the caress. He smiled, rubbing his knuckles against the base of Keith’s neck and turning a page with his free hand.

He let his fingers wander absently as Keith relaxed against him, the peaceful, muted sounds of pencil on paper continuing.

Shiro glanced up when Keith slid his sketchbook onto the table, then leaned back again with a low sigh. “You’re . . . not finished yet?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow as he took in the still-incomplete design. Though the flowers had mostly been corrected per Shiro’s suggestions, and there were more details to the ribbon now - and rather than being a solid colour, it was flecked with points describing constellations. Shiro hummed, intrigued.

“Urgh, no.” Keith wriggled, getting comfortable. “I’ll finish it tomorrow. You’re _distracting_.” He sighed, though he didn’t sound very unhappy.

Shiro looked down at his lover and blinked, not entirely certain what he had _done_ to be . . . distracting, and Keith’s head shifted under his hand, nudging into his fingers. Shiro smiled slightly, rubbing his fingertips behind Keith’s ear and resuming the strokes through his hair. Ah. “I could stop, if I’m making it difficult for you to focus.” he offered.

Keith scoffed, snuggling his cheek against Shiro’s shoulder and folding his legs up closer to his body. “No.” he mumbled. “Besides, ‘s fine. I have plenty of time.” He waved a hand lazily, then let it rest on Shiro’s thigh. “What are you reading?” he asked, voice low.

“Do you really want to know?” Shiro asked, amused, and Keith made a sleepy sort of noise that could have been assent. “It’s about the life of Albrecht Dürer.”

Keith hummed, nodding against Shiro’s shoulder, and turned more fully towards him. Shiro tilted the book in his lap towards his lover, but suspected Keith wasn’t terribly interested. He continued to read, Keith’s silky hair twining between his fingers with every slow stroke.

Keith had already been sagging against him, cuddled comfortably close, and Shiro wasn’t sure how long Keith had been asleep there before he noticed. He craned his neck, peeking down and smiling at the relaxed, peaceful expression on Keith’s sharp features. Shiro finished reading the open page, then put aside his book absently and stroked Keith’s cheek, shifting him gently to a more stable position.

He didn’t stir, though once he would have jerked awake at any movement from Shiro when they were so close, and Shiro’s heart squeezed, warm with fondness. It was _very_ late, and Keith had risen early to take his hoverbike out in the rising dawn that morning.

Shiro stifled a yawn. He’d lazed in bed and gone back to sleep for a while after Keith left before getting up as well, but he was tired too. He reached for Keith’s shoulder, then paused. He turned towards his lover and pulled Keith into his arms rather than wake him, rising from the couch once Keith was steady against his chest, head still tipped down to lie on his shoulder.

Shiro threaded his way between the couch and the low table before it, turning sideways to keep Keith’s legs from bumping the lamp. Keith stirred, groaning softly, and Shiro paused as his head lolled back, but he was yawning, waking up. He brought his head back up, the lower edge of the constellation tattooed on his throat disappearing beneath his sweater as it scrunched up with the movement.

Shiro shifted to loosen his hold and let Keith down, but he put his head back on Shiro’s shoulder and reached up, looping his arms around Shiro and squeezing tight. Shiro laughed and pulled him a little higher instead, slipping sidelong through the bedroom door and carrying Keith to the bed before letting his lover slide down out of his arms.

Keith smiled up at Shiro as he splayed out on the bed, a little smugly, although the sleepy haze to his expression softened it.

“You should probably still get ready for bed, if you’re awake.” Shiro advised, and Keith stretched lazily, then pulled him down while he was off-balance taking a step. “Keith!” he couldn’t quite keep the laugh out of his voice as he landed halfway across his lover, sprawled out on their bed.

“In a few minutes.” Keith said, nuzzling his cheek, then pausing. He freed one hand to nudge Shiro’s crooked glasses back into place from where they’d been digging into his temple. It was a sweet gesture, but they were still not quite sitting right. “Sorry, honey.”

Shiro kissed him lightly, rolling partially off Keith to rest on the bed and reaching up to take his glasses off properly. “Would you?” he folded them and held them out.

Keith took them, stretching out to push them onto the nightstand as Shiro buried his face against Keith’s warm, slightly-too-bony-to-be-comfortable shoulder. Keith hummed softly, wriggling beneath Shiro’s weight as he settled and bringing a hand up to stroke the back of his head and down his neck.

Shiro smiled and kissed the little red flare at the heart of the Scorpius constellation, then nuzzled into the crook of Keith’s neck.

“What happened to _get ready for bed_?” Keith asked without any particular concern, fingertips gentle as they petted over Shiro’s neck and then flattened, his palm sliding down Shiro’s spine.

“In a minute.” Shiro said without lifting his head, voice a muffled thrum against Keith’s neck that made him giggle.

“Mm, all right.” Keith murmured contentedly, kneading the nape of Shiro’s neck with one hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://kalira9.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
